


Mine

by Mierke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 02:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mierke/pseuds/Mierke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has been seeing Snape for a while now. It's time to tell her friends.</p><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Mine  
>  **Author:** Mierke  
>  **Fandom & Disclaimer:** Harry Potter - it's not mine, it's s J.K. Rowling's. I’m just borrowing her world and very thankful for the chance.  
>  **Pairing/Characters:** Hermione/Snape  
>  **Prompt:** Knifeplay for [](http://longfic-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://longfic-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)**longfic_bingo**  
>  **Words:** 5,025  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Warnings:** Knifeplay, obviously  
>  **Spoilers/Timeline:** Post-Deathly Hallows (epilogue ignored)  
> 

**Prologue**

Hermione closed her eyes against the pain; the sharp tip of the knife cut through the skin on her arm. She could feel the blood starting to drip, could almost hear it falling on the ground. She stood against a wall, her arms raised, bound by magic. The pain crashed through her, pulling her along on its waves.

As she opened her eyes again, she saw Severus Snape looking at her, his eyes filled with sadistic longing. He was naked; his cock was standing at full attention and involuntarily Hermione shivered. Severus smirked as he saw her reaction and proceeded to cut through the ties that kept the lingerie on her body.

As the cold air touched her exposed skin, Hermione fought the urge to beg him for release. He stepped closer and her eyes held his, telling him what she wanted without saying a word. He understood her perfectly, but wouldn't give her anything unless she begged for it. She knew this; still, she always tried. Begging didn't come easy to her, no matter the cost. No matter the times he had made her do it.

The blade slipped between her breasts, and he stepped closer to her. She could feel the heat radiating from him, could feel his breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined the way she looked to him. The small lines the knife left on her body. The droplets of blood that would well up, connect and slowly start to glide down her body. The red they left behind everywhere they travelled.

"Beg me," he ordered and she almost yielded to his voice. The silky flow of his words mingled with the flow of her blood. She trembled, sure she would have went down on her knees if she hadn't been so tightly bound. His other hand started caressing her, stroking her hip, alternatively using the tips of his fingers and the tips of his nails. She moaned, a sound she couldn't keep in if she wanted to.

He took another step closer. It was mere millimetres that separated their bodies now and Hermione longed for the distance to evaporate. She longed to touch his skin, to have his skin touch hers, to feel the way they fit so perfectly together. To feel their connection through more than just words.

"Please, Severus," she whispered.

He entered her, his cock finding its way easily into her body. Hermione closed her eyes against the overwhelming feeling, against the rush of adrenaline as he took his knife and cut into the sensitive skin of her breast. His other hand massaged her right breast, the contrasting feelings bringing Hermione to even higher ground.

"Yours," she moaned. "Totally and entirely yours."

It seemed a magic word. As soon as she had said it, his control over his body and movements disappeared. The clattering of the knife as he threw it on the ground echoed in her ears and she let herself be taken over by the feeling of surrender. His arms held her tight against his body, now and again pressing against the cuts he had made earlier, the pain each time heightening the sensations that filled her body. He moved rapidly in and out of her, his breathing the only thing she could hear as her euphoria reached its peak.

"Mine," he growled into her ear, his frantic movements rattling her chains as he came.

***

Hermione had never thought her life could be so perfect and yet so messed up. Finishing Hogwarts, she had always assumed that following her plan would ensure her happiness.

Getting a degree and finding someone to spend the rest of her life with had been the top two priorities on her list. Possibly, but not necessarily, in that order. They would ensure her success in life, both professionally and personally; the rest would surely follow. Other things her list had included had been finding a job, making a name for herself and finding a place to live.

Ron had often joked that 'Finding a hobby' should have been first on her list, but then again, Ron had often joked about everything. It hadn't taken them very long after the war had ended to realize that in non-life threatening circumstances their relationship was rapidly falling apart. The way he never took anything seriously in life had kept her sane during the war, but drove her insane after. And while her intellect and loyalty had kept him safe during the war, they drove him into crazed jealous rages after.

Being friends suited them both much better. The only lasting damage of their relationship was on Hermione; for a long time she had wondered whether anyone would ever appreciate her for who she really was. Unsure whether she would achieve her second main goal, she threw herself completely in her first.

She had studied Arithmancy, apprenticed under the best in the country, pursuing internships with the best in the world. Her final project had been focussed on memory loss. Her case study was Gilderoy Lockhart. She hadn't been able to cure her former teacher, but her work had gone on to help many others who had suffered much less severe memory charms.

She hadn't done this alone. Her project needed Potions, and while her skill in Arithmancy might surpass even that of her Master, her skill in Potions was, at best, theoretically perfect. She had asked the hospital for the best of the best, unwilling to let anything less than perfection near her life's work. They had sent her Severus Snape.

They had had a rough start. Snape had been even her least favourite professor in school and she loathed having to work with him. The feeling was mutual; he didn't trust anything of what she said and always tried to recreate her calculations. If he couldn't, it was because they were wrong. She couldn't even count the times she had screamed in frustration that he couldn't recreate them because he _simply didn't understand_.

Everything changed when the first experiment - with her calculations, despite his protestations - had turned out exactly as she had predicted. It was as if he saw her for the first time. There was a tiny glimpse of respect, of recognition, in his eyes. It wasn't until she joked to him that someone so poisonous could never be poisoned to death, however, that their relationship had clicked into place.

Apparently, having a degree and someone to spend the rest of your life with was not the magical brew for perfection she had always imagined it to be. She currently lived in two worlds.

One where she spent her days tricking her friends into believing she was still living in her apartment, to the point of having spelled her rooms so the wards would notify her if someone was knocking at her door. She would Apparate straight home, open the door and pretend she had just been reading a book.

And one where she spent her days living with the man she loved, sharing breath and space and thoughts. Sharing words and love and fluids. Sharing everything, except her friends.

It was time to reconnect them. It was time to make her world whole again.

 

**Mine**

Hermione watched him work. Severus had removed his outer robes, revealing the black shirt and trousers underneath. His eyes were focussed on the material he was working with, his hands precisely cutting the fairy wings in even portions.

"How do you do that? How do you have such perfect control?"

Her eyes followed the movement of the tiny blade in his hand, movements almost too fast for her eyes to follow. The blade was sharp and small and the fairy wings were glassy and slippery, and still he managed to steer it in exactly the direction he wanted it to go. Never once did he falter. Hermione was mesmerized. With every cut he made it was as if the wings he had severed had taken residence in her stomach.

"Life..." he started, his hands never faltering in their movements. “Has never allowed me to control it."

Hermione started to say something, but before she could, he continued.

"I had plans, just like you. But my plans could never be set into motion. Life had a way of pulling the reigns out of my hands, leaving them burned and blistered, and running away with me."

He finished the last of the fairy wings, added them to his cauldron and turned towards her.

"You don't know how it feels. What life has put you through, your shenanigans with Potter and Weasley, is nothing, _nothing_ , compared to what I have been through. You, you have a tight control on every aspect of your life. You never veer from your set course. For anything."

He adjusted the flames under his cauldron, murmuring an incantation to ensure the exact temperature.

"Control was something I started to crave. Being a spy was both about perfect control and no control at all. I had to have perfect control over my thoughts and feelings, but I didn't have any say in my actions. Everything I did, every choice I made, was measured by either the Dark Lord's demands or Dumbledore's... requests."

He reached for a lid, securely fastening it on his cauldron. Quick wand movements set a timer shimmering above it.

"I had to look for control in other areas. I found it in Potions."

Hermione stood, shivering slightly as her bare feet hit the cold floor of the lab. She stepped closer to him, her hands reaching out to his.

"I can help you find it."

He jerked away from her, anger in his eyes.

"You don't know what you're talking about. That's not the way my life works."

She flinched, but just a little. If she hadn't been so terrified of what she was planning on doing, she wouldn't have reacted at all. She used to be so frightened at his intensity, but after months of navigating their relationship, she had learned the signs of real anger and his lashing out in hurt or fear. The lashings never lasted long; she just needed to find a way to get through to him.

"I can't change the way you live your life. I know that. You do remember I'm pretty smart, right?"

Only a slight twitch at the corners of his lips betrayed that he had heard her. As long as he was listening, she was okay. She could do this.

"What I can do..."

Her voice trailed off as she stepped even closer to him, her hand reaching for the knife he still held tight. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Is give you control over something else."

She stood on her tip-toes, her mouth close to his ear, as she moved the knife in his hand close to her skin. Her other hand travelled around his body, stroking the sensitive skin on his lower back.

"My life, as you say, has always been tightly controlled. It's exhausting."

She pressed down a little on the hand with the blade, feeling the sharp tip just reaching into her skin. The muscles in his hand tensed, but he wasn't fighting her. In fact, she was pretty sure he had tensed up because he had to rein in his arousal.

"You need control. I need to lose control. I want you to hurt me."

She looked in his eyes, her own blazing.

"I _need_ you to hurt me."

***

"You want to what?"

Snape turned around, disbelief written all over his face.

"I want to tell my friends."

He came closer, lording his height over her as if his being bigger meant she should yield to his opinion.

"I see. You want to tell your lovely, prejudiced, dunderheaded friends that you have been fucking the greasy bat of the dungeons?"

"I'd like to believe we've done a bit more than mere fucking, but yes, that's what I want."

Hermione made sure her voice remained calm, cold, detached. She could do this. She ignored the fact that Severus was shaking his head, ignored the fact that he used that tone he used when he spoke to the dumbest student in his class.

"Hermione Granger, you are unbelievable," he said.

"And you like me hidden away in your corner of the castle."

She wouldn't raise her voice. They had fought a million times and raising her voice had never done her any good. She could be rational. They could talk this through.

"I haven't heard much complaining. You like seducing me in my dungeon, lying bare in wait for me as I come back from teaching and need to release some... frustration. In fact, I believe you like the idea that I've got you locked up, that there's no place for you to go or be but in my bed, at my demand..."

Severus took several steps closer, looking her body up and down in a blatant display of lust. Hermione resolutely ignored her rising arousal. She had a conversation to finish.

"Harry is--"

Snape turned away in frustration and disgust.

"Harry Potter is an ignorant brat who thinks the world is painted in black and white."

"I think you're confusing him with Ron," Hermione murmured. Severus' small laugh indicated she hadn't said it quite low enough. Louder, she added: "Harry knows the sacrifices you have made."

"And he just can't wait to throw them in my face again," Snape said. "We don't need to include anyone else in this. It's you and me. Why can't that be enough?"

"Because no matter how much you want to believe, at this very moment, that we are all about sex, we are more than that. And if we are more, then I want to stop lying to my friends."

His eyes narrowed.

"Maybe we're not more. Maybe I just like the idea of having the Gryffindor Head Girl, of having the best and brightest this generation supposedly has to offer, so thoroughly screwed that she doesn't even realize I'm making a fool out of her."

She turned away from him this time, hiding the hurt in her eyes. His words hurt - if the phrase _cut deeper than a knife_ wasn't one she refused to use in this relationship, it was the one she would have used. She couldn't let him see how much he had gotten to her. She couldn't let him win this. The only way to make sure this fight didn't end in tears was to give as good as she got.

"I have no doubt that having a Gryffindor begging you for release, begging you to use all your Slytherin guile to make her writhe and moan, is the perfect way to stroke your ego."

She took a shaky breath.

"But you love me. I know you do."

Severus scoffed, a sound that almost broke Hermione's heart. She tightened her control on her emotions again. She couldn't afford to lose this fight. She couldn't afford to lose him.

"With all your so-called intellect, you can't figure out what I've been doing? I've had you, part of the golden trio, begging _me_ , the Death Eater, to make you bleed. All I've been doing is making you _mine_."

***

"Say you're mine."

Severus' cock teased at her entrance. Hermione's need was rising at full speed, but there was no way she could give him what he wanted. Every part of her rebelled at the idea of surrendering herself entirely to him, at the suggestion that she wasn't a part of this world, but just a part of him.

His tongue licked her nipple again and her back arched. Almost unnoticeably he slid his hand underneath her and as she relaxed, his nails pierced her skin. She tried to move her body away from the pain, but his other hand pushed her down. He took her nipple in his mouth, licking and nibbling and driving her crazy. Hermione screamed, buckled her hips, desperate to have him inside her.

He didn't give an inch. In fact, he pulled back a little, making sure their bodies didn't touch where she wanted them to.

She gathered her strength and flipped them around. Her hand wandered down, touching him everywhere she could find. She trailed kisses down his neck, licking his skin, revelling in the way she could make him moan. Her lips kissed their way down, eventually meeting her hand at the base of his cock.

She could hear his breathing quicken, feel his hand tighten in his hair. With triumph on her lips, she closed them around him. Making sure she went very, very slowly, she took him in, then slid her mouth back up again. She kept this up, her rhythm never changing, never faltering, never increasing, no matter how painfully he pulled at her hair.

With a guttural cry he pushed her off him, his breathing heavy throughout his whole body. Hermione's heart started racing, anticipating his next move. She hoped she had teased him enough; hoped he had forgotten all about his demands, hoped his brain would be so devoid of blood by now that he couldn't remember them.

"You don't control me," he whispered, both disappointing and exhilarating her, and his fingertips started sprinkling feather light touches all over her body. "I decide what to do when I want to do it. You have no say in this. And you know why?"

His touches turned into scratches, as he left nail markings in his wake. Hermione trembled, losing control of the way her body reacted to his body, to his words.

"I think you know why."

His fingers moved lower and lower, but as soon as Hermione moved her hips, wanting to take them inside her, his hand moved up again. The moment her body relaxed, his fingers returned. It was driving her crazy.

"Because I'm..."

She couldn't finish the thought. No matter how her body begged her to, she'd still need a final push to say it out loud. She closed her eyes, hoping against hope that he would relent on this issue. Hoping that he would just take her, as he had so many times before.

They flew open again as a knife traced her stomach. Before she even fully registered what it meant, he had cut into her. She screamed as he left little lines all over her body, before putting the knife at her throat. Her body tensed, a high unlike any other riding through her.

"You are...?"

"I am yours," she said, her voice one rush, her tone desperate. She needed him to touch her, to fill her up, to feel her.

"You are mine."

His voice was satisfied and loving at the same time. Had she still any control of her thoughts, she would have marvelled at that. As it was, the emotions she could hear made her even more excited than before, and, as he finally entered her, euphoria filled her body. She was his and she never wanted it any other way.

***

"What you've forgotten, my impossible Severus, is that in making me yours, you've made yourself mine."

Her body tensed, every muscle anticipating his response. He was hers; she needed him to believe this. If he believed this, then all of his words had been just a way of pushing her away. If he acknowledged that he was hers, then it didn't matter what he had said, because none of it had been true.

If he would deny this, she was lost. If he'd state that she was delusional, she had to try and Apparate away and find a place where she could break down freely.

So she waited.

A minute later, her heart started beating again. She could tell him how she felt; he would listen.

"I'm tired of having to hide you away. I want to be more than your secret. And you deserve to be more than my secret."

"As if I want to be around your friends."

Forgetting all she had promised herself, Hermione exploded.

"Severus Snape! I haven't asked you to like my friends, I haven't even asked you to _meet_ my friends. From the beginning, I have done everything you asked me to do to hide this relationship, including that stupid charmed knife that makes my wounds and scars disappear after twenty-four hours, no matter how much I _like_ having your marks on my body. I want to show you off, I want to feel you with me when you're not actually there. I still can't believe the most brilliant mind in the country wants to be with _me_ and I'm starting to think that maybe I _am_ delusional and you don't want me at all!"

She resisted the urge to stamp her feet - she was a mature witch, damn it - and forced the tears that were forming back into her eyes. He had made her cry enough.

Severus stood stock-still, as if somehow her words had been a Freezing Charm.

Silence descended on the dungeons. Hermione counted her breaths, forcing relaxation onto her body. Slowly, the tension faded from her limbs and the urge to start sobbing disappeared. Still, Severus stood there, unmoving, a statue in the darkness. Desperation started to leak from the tiles into her, taking hold of her toes and slowly moving upwards. She wanted him to say something, anything.

"Your friends might not approve."

His voice sounded loud in the thick silence.

"I don't care."

Her voice sounded small, as if the room was too big for her.

"Yes, you do," he countered. "You care and you will listen and they will talk you out of this and I will be here waiting and you will never come back."

"You will never come back."

It seemed to echo in Hermione's head, or was it the dungeons that kept the sound going?

"Yes," she said. "I will care."

His stance slightly shifted, as if his legs were giving out on him.

"I will listen and they will rage and it will hurt me. I will be mad and angry, but mostly I will be sad and broken and I will need you to hold me."

He looked up, his eyes holding hers.

" _You_ are the most important thing in my life. They need to accept you as much as you need to accept them. I need to know that when I go tell them, I'm not telling lies. I need to know that I'm not just here to keep your bed warm. I need to know that you want me for me and that you will be here when I come back."

Suddenly, Severus was on her, holding her tightly.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "I will always be here."

***

Severus trembled in her embrace. She took the knife from their bedside table, gently pushing it into his hands.

"I'm here, Severus."

He turned away, dipping his head in despair without letting go of the knife. She took off her last piece of clothing - as much as her nightgown could be called _clothing_ \- and lay down on the bed. He turned the knife over and over in his hand; Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off of it. Just imagining the way it would feel against her skin had her writhing against the sheets.

"Severus..." she begged him, unable to keep it in any longer.

He looked at her, then, at her body waiting for his touch. Slowly, excruciatingly so, he turned his whole body towards hers, letting his hand - the one without the knife - trail over her skin. Hermione shivered.

"If I do this, there's no turning back."

She could hear the desire in his voice, in the way he almost couldn't say the words; she felt how hard he had to push against his vocal chords to give her this last chance. But she didn't need it. She knew what she wanted.

"I hope so," she said.

The knife was on her skin before she knew it. The coldness startled her and Hermione gasped, holding her breath as she waited on the next movement. The metal followed a trail she couldn't identify, a trail she could hardly feel, a trail she definitely couldn't follow while her brain was held by anticipation. Her eyes were closed; her whole body focussed on the tip of the knife.

"Breathe, love," he whispered into her ear and she could hear the laughter in his words. She let out a shuddering breath, the tone of his voice making her even more eager.

"I love you," she said, while at the very same moment the knife pressed into her skin. She screamed, her eyes flying open. The pain seared through her body, a kind of pain she had never felt before. From the moment she had told Severus she wanted this, she had wondered how it would feel. Whether she would flash back to the war, to the times pain had almost broken her, to the Cruciatus Curse.

No amount of thinking and wondering could have prepared her for this. It was the kind of pain that completely filled her being, filling her with need and desire and an almost insuppressible urge to beg for more. She had never imagined this kind of pain could exist, but now she knew.

Now she knew.

She reached up to kiss him. Their tongues duelled and he lay down on top of her, his body pressing on the cut he had just made, sending another spark of pain and need through her body.

As he pushed into her - easily - he looked into her eyes and she was overwhelmed with a feeling of belonging. As he slowly drove them both towards the edge, and then rather less slowly drove them over it, the feeling intensified. Here was where she was born to be; here was what she had been looking for.

"You are incredible," he whispered into her hair, lying down next to her. She shivered, from the cold this time, and he conjured up a blanket. She listened to his heartbeat, to the breath that ran past her ear, to the sounds of the castle around them. She didn't think she'd ever been this content.

"If I had known it was this much fun to shut you up, I would've done it a long time ago."

She could see the smirk on his face even with her eyes half-closed.

"Does this mean you'll do this every time I annoy you?"

"Well, that's a thought," he said, pulling her even closer to him.

"You're not usually this soft after sex," she remarked, gasping as his nails scraped one of her cuts.

"You don't usually tell me you love me during," he countered.

***

The Leaky Cauldron was warm, the nerves making Hermione even warmer. She took off her coat, revealing her T-shirt and bare arms underneath. She saw the eyes of her companions flicker to the lines on her forearm and blushed. She loved seeing the lines on her skin, whether it were the scars or the red lines just after they had sex, loved the evidence of his passion, loved feeling like a part of him was always with her.

"You were saying?" Harry prompted, his eyes back on hers.

"I've been seeing someone," Hermione said, steeling her resolve. Taking a deep breath, she added: "Sev- Snape. I'm seeing Severus Snape. I lov-"

"That explains!"

Ron's outburst was loud in the quiet pub. A few people looked at them. He gave them an over exaggerated wave and turned back to Hermione and Harry.

"Hermione, we're here for you," Harry said as he laid his hands on hers. "If you're ready to back out of this abusive relationship, we can help. Ginny knows people--"

"Wait, abusive?" Hermione asked. "Why on earth would you think my relationship is abusive?"

"Your scars. You might think they are well hidden beneath the scars you got in the war, but we know you. We fought alongside with you. We know which scars belong and which don't. We can see that you're hurt. That these are new wounds. To be honest, we had been wondering whether you had been hurting yourself."

Her mind raced. She had honestly never expected anyone to notice. The war had painted her body as much as it had any other's, and not even magic could remove all traces of the battles she had fought.

"But if it's Snape you're seeing," Ron added. "Then there's nothing left to figure out now, is there?"

Well, at least that was the kind of prejudice she _had_ expected. Before Hermione could say anything in her - or his - defence, their orders were brought. Smiling at Hannah, she weighed her next words.

"You can tell us what he did to you," Harry said, sensing her hesitation. "We won't judge you. We know this wasn't your fault."

He looked at Ron, who nodded, though his eyes were murderous. Hermione realized the only weapon she had left to wield was the truth.

"You want to know how he gave me these scars?" Hermione asked, a sly smile spreading across her face. "Severus took a knife to my skin, softly, slowly, until I begged him to stop torturing me."

Her friends' faces were full of understanding, open to the horrors she would bestow upon them. She could see the plans running in their heads, the plans on how to kill the man who had hurt her. The plans to defend her honour. She smirked.

"Until I begged him to push through and cut my skin open, until I begged him to show his love for me by making me bleed."

Her friends blinked at her.

"And then, after the pain had reached every part of me and I clung to him in complete surrender, I begged him to fuck me."

The tinkling of broken glass seemed to echo throughout the pub. Ron coughed as he almost choked on his last gulp. Hermione smiled.

"Time for another drink, then?"


End file.
